RoyEd: On my Own
by mwuh-awesome
Summary: pre-Conqueror of Shamballa. 'He had spent most of his life denying those around him, pushing them away and continuing onward, alone. And now, in his darkest moment, when he needed someone someone to just hold him and tell him it was alright there was no one.' Alone and hurting in a war-torn country, Ed dreams of his Roy. Inspired from On my Own from Les Miserable. Songfic. RoyEd.


Pairing: RoyEd

Summary: Set in the time Ed is on the other side of the gate, pre-Conqueror of Shamballa. 'It was ironic, he realized bitterly. He had spent most of his life denying those around him, pushing them away and continuing onward, alone. And now, in his darkest moment, when he needed someone (someone to just hold him and tell him it was alright) there was no one.' Alone and hurting in a war-torn country, Edward dreams of his Roy. Songfic. RoyEd. Inspired from the beautiful Les Miserable.

AN: I was at the movies today and an add for Les Miserables came on. I. Died. My mum and I have been waiting for this musical to come to Australia (which it will in a few years!) for ages and ages and now, its coming out as a movie! Which looks so _good. _ (You can watch the trailer at: watch?v=xk5UStefYmE )

So I just had to write something for it. I had to. This isn't all that great and doesn't really have a point (except to depress everyone) and does not do this song justice _at all _(but my writing would never be able to do that) but hey, I had fun writing it.

**The song that inspired this: watch?v=GGx_z4v4484 Please listen to this as you read. Its truly a beautiful song. **

* * *

_And now I'm all alone again nowhere to turn, no one to go to  
without a home without a friend without a face to say hello to  
And now the night is near  
Now I can make believe he's here_

Snow rained down softly from the sky, twirling and dancing as they were caught on the steady, hopeful wind. Up, up, up into the distance they floated, high above the raging city and off to the horizon. To a place safe from human hand, to a place were hope still breathed, to a place only his childhood memories had glanced upon. To a place Edward wished he could follow.

Head thrown back, eyes focused on something high above that only he could see, arms spread wide, Edward stopped and breathed. Just breathed. He felt everything wash away (his troubles, his problems, his _pain)_ and, for one blissful moment, imagined what it would be like to fly.

"Hey!" a voice snapped, rough and grating in Ed's ears. "Move it, short stack."

With a solid shove, he was jolted forward. He drew his arms (just like the wings of a frightened bird) inward and didn't resist the movement, falling onto the concrete sidewalk with a loud, echoing thud.

"Crazy lunatic," the man mumbled to himself as he passed. "What does he think he's doing just standing there?"

_Sometimes I walk alone at night  
When everybody else is sleeping  
I think of him and then I'm happy  
With the company I'm keeping  
The city goes to bed  
And I can live inside my head_

Instead of moving from the darkened alleyway he had landed in, Ed snaked his mismatching arms around his waist and held himself. He curled his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes.

It was ironic, he realized bitterly. He had spent most of his life denying those around him, pushing them away and continuing onward, alone. And now, in his darkest moment, when he needed someone (someone to just hold him and tell him it was alright) there was no one.

The snow that managed to escape the wind's grip come to rest over his jacket (brown, not red, brown) and settled over him like a frozen blanket.

But he wouldn't cry. No, he couldn't cry. Tears stinged painfully at his eyes but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.

_On my own  
Pretending he's beside me  
All alone  
I walk with him till morning  
Without him  
I feel his arms around me  
And when I lose my way I close my eyes  
And he has found me_

He let himself remember deep black eyes. He let himself remember the way strong, warm arms would hold him and how calloused hands would cup his face with such tenderness. The cold was forgotten as the memory of exploding flames danced before his eyes. Suddenly, he wasn't lying on the cold lonely ground of Munich but rather on the soft leather couch that belonged to the one he yearned for the most.

"You're such an idiot," Roy said to him softly. He wasn't wearing his Amestrian blue uniform but rather cotton pyjamas that held a significance Ed himself couldn't understand.

The dark-haired Colonel crouched inches from his face, and smiled. Smiled. He smiled. Because, Ed realised, there was no reason not to.

"I know," Ed replied, just as softly, as though afraid to break the silken silence. After a pause, he admitted, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," the taller man murmured.

The fire that flickered gently in the corner bathed their faces in a dim light and chased away their demons and insecurities. A calloused hand (the one that Ed remembered so vividly) reached out and-

_In the rain the pavement shines like silver  
All the lights are misty in the river  
In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight  
And all I see is him and me forever and forever_

"Riza! Riza! Come quick! There seems to be a kid here!"

Instead of warm fingertips, an icy glove pressed against his cheek. The leather couch beneath him floated away, a hard cold surface replacing it. The fire disappeared and a sudden frozen feeling rushed back so fast it left him coughing deep from within his lungs.

"Oh, god, he's sick. How long has he been out here?"

He was shaking. He couldn't feel his fingers, his feet, his lips. Where was Roy? Where was his Roy?

"Go get Doctor Maro! Quickly!"

Spots danced along his sightless vision, prickling uncomfortably at the lids. Something reached out and brushed ice he hadn't known was there off of his eyes.

"Hey there, kid. Do you think you could open your eyes?"

Obeying, he pried them open. Everything lurched forward and he had to restrain himself from slamming them shut again. Why did he suddenly want to listen to this faceless stranger?

"It's okay; you're okay. You're going to be okay."

As Ed stared into black ebony eyes (_real _eyes, eyes that were actually in front of him) he knew it wouldn't be. Those eyes - they belonged to his Roy.

No… he scanned those eyes and felt a part of him die all over again. The orbs held no passion, no soul. They didn't have Roy's (the real Roy's) depth. They were hollow. A sick, twisted copy designed for the sole purpose of breaking him.

_And I know it's only in my mind  
That I'm talking to myself and not to him  
And although I know that he is blind  
Still I say, there's a way for us_

"No its not," Ed rasped. He watched as the copy's eyes widened and he had to wonder how the man could understand what he was saying as he spoke through cracked, frostbitten lips. "I'm not okay."

"Riza's gone for the doctor," the fake tried to reassure him, "You're going to be alright."

But even as the taller man picked him up, rushing down the street to what he must have believed held salvation, Ed couldn't stop himself from whispered a broken, "No… no. I won't be."

The man mustn't have heard him. He continued running down the street as though death was upon his door. Ed supposed, for him at least, it must've been.

Ed closed his eyes. He barely felt the way he would bounce at every step and he ignored the wind that pierced his skin like frozen daggers. He closed his eyes and imagined that was what it felt like to fly.

_I love him  
But when the night is over  
He is gone  
The river's just a river  
Without him  
The world around me changes  
The trees are bare and everywhere  
The streets are full of strangers_


End file.
